Chapter XIII

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I've never been mor embarrassed in my life. I've never had a reason to be embarrassed before today, but I don't undersand why my family can't keep their mouths shut.

Thirty minutes earlier

"Thank you so much for the food, Mrs. Blake," Marcus says to my mother. All the boy's done has been flattering the woman to death.

"So what are your intentions with my daughter?" my dad asks, not even easing into the topic. I lower my head and sheild my eyes from what's going on in front of me.

"I intend to date her," he answers dumbly and I shake my head wishing he knew how to come up with better answers.

"I mean, do you intend on screwing her over?" he asks, picking at his chicken and I almost gag on my food.

"Dad!" I scold. I look at Marcus who still has on a calm face, though I don't know how. I can feel my own heating up to a thousand degrees.

"Mr. Blake, I haven't been pursuing your daughter for ten years just to "screw her over", " he replies, and everyone at the table seems taken aback by his response.

"I'm just making sure. I only want the best for my daughter," he says, and my face becomes even more red.

"Dad, stop!" I plead, sliding even further down into my seat. Suddenly I feel Marcus place his hand on my lap. I look up at him, but his eyes still haven't left my dad.

"Of course, Mr. Blake."

Now

"I'm so sorry for my dad. I didn't think he'd put you on the spot like that," I say, leading Marcus into my room, suddenly conscious of every detail. My unmade bed, my open closet, wondering if I put my makeup back in the drawers in the bathroom.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure he's done that to Emma's boyfriend," he says.

I laugh. "Yeah. That is why she doesn't bring him over that much anymore," I explain, sitting on my bed. I look up at him standing in front of me, his arms dangling by his sides. He takes one of his hands and takes mine in his, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. I concentrate on his face and notice the creases on his face. He's thinking.

"Do you not want me to come over anymore?" he asks, softly. There isn't any anger or shame in his voice, just concern for what I want.

"Of course I do. Unless you don't want to, obviously." I look down at our hands, his long fingers fit perfectly with mine. I never want to make him uncomfortable, so if he never wants to come over here again with my family around, then I'll have to deal with it.

"I do, I do!" he rushes to say. As he speaks he puts his other hand on top of mine and sqeezes them reassuringly. "You just seem very flustered right now."

"I mean I am embarrassed, but only because I didn't know what you were thinking about everyone," I confess. "I just don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"It was weird at first, but they're all nice," he says. I know he isn't lying, but it does little to settle my nerves. He notices my uneasiness and sits next to me.

"Stop worrying about it. Your dad's just doing what every dad does. Mine does it to every guy that walks in the house with my sister." I smile a little and I feel him relax next to me.

He lets go of my hands and he hops to the middle of the bed and leans against the headboard. He gives me a goofy smile and I raise my eyebrow at him.

"Come here," he says. He holds his arms out for me and lifts the corner of his lips. I hesitate a little, embarrassed by how much I want to lay next to him.

"Come on Manda. Please?" I sigh and crawl into his arms. He puts his arms around me and I rest my head on his shoulder. He smells so good. So good. I snuggle closer, not even caring if I'm acting like an idiot, and wrap my arm around his stomach.

"See, this isn't so bad," he murmers above me. I have to agree with him. It feels pretty damn good.

I hum into his neck in agreement and Marcus pulls me closer. I've never took myself for a cuddler before. Even when I was younger, I was never the child to sleep next to my parents, Emma was. I had always liked my personal sleeping space, but laying next to Marcus I don't feel crowded like I usually do. I pull closer instead of pushing away, and I love that he does the same.

"How was your meeting with Lexi?" he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I shrug and look up at him. "It could have gone better, but what can you do?"

"Did you think of something?"

"She wanted to do a sleepover, but I always feel weird at those." I look away from his face and look at my arm. The constant eye contact there was uncomfortable.

"I thought we all go to Sofia's to bake cookies or something to sell at the next game, but she refused to do anything else I tried to suggest." I exhale deeply and run my finger across his forearm.

"How was your talk with Holden?" I ask. For some reason my brother isn't too fond of me dating Marcus, and is now talking to me even less than before.

"Um, okay. He didn't say much to be honest," he replies.

"Did he tell you why he's upset?"

"No. I think you'll have to pull that out of him."

"How should I do that? For the past two years we've had an average of one real conversation a month, and now he's just flat out not speaking to me."

"Whatever it is, he'll get over it. I just told him that I hope he'll come around soon, because I've liked you for so long," he says.

"I hope so. Lately Holden's sensitive, and I don't want to set something off in him."

"I wouldn't worry about it. Just let him be." Marcus has gone from rubbing my shoulder to stroking my hair, and is now gently resting his head on mine. The weight is comforting, and the motions are soothing, relaxing, and more wonderful than anything I've ever felt.


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